


seven

by CyrusBreeze



Series: The Other 51 [17]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Infidelity, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrusBreeze/pseuds/CyrusBreeze
Summary: There are seven stages of grief. You’re supposed to go through them when someone dies. But Eliza supposes that the death of her marriage is reason for grief enough.Modern Day AU





	seven

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY SHIT HAVE YOU HEARD FIRST BURN BECAUSE DAY-UM IT WAS FUCKING INCREDIBLE. 
> 
> This is inspired by First Burn and the Seven Stages of Grief (as opposed to five) are from the Kübler Ross Model. 
> 
> Shockingly, no caffeine was involved in the making of this fic. All mistakes are my own. Yada yada yada y'all know the drill. 
> 
> I should've been studying for finals but instead I wrote this so I will blame LMM if I fail my history class.

**Shock**

“Have you read the paper?” Fanny burst into Eliza’s office. Eliza looked up from her desk. 

“Have I what?” she asked, looking up from her laptop. 

“The New York Times,” Fanny said. “Have you been on there this morning? Did you know?” 

“Know what? What the hell are you talking about Fanny?” Eliza asked. 

She exited out of the document she was working on and opened Google. She typed in New York Times. Her jaw dropped when it landed on the front page. 

“Out,” she commanded Fanny. 

“Ms. Schuyler, can I do anything for you-”

“Out!” Eliza roared. 

She stared at the headline. “Senator Alexander Hamilton Acknowledges Extramarital Affair in Face of Extortion and Bribery Charges.” Eliza clicked on the article. 

**Written by Alexander Hamilton June 9th, 2017.**

_The charge against me is in connection with one James Reynolds for purposes of extortion and bribery. My real crime is an extramarital affair with his wife, which, for a considerable time, was done with his knowing consent._

_I met Mrs. Maria Reynolds at an event in June of 2012. My wife was visiting her father with our children in upstate New York and I had stayed behind in DC in order to finish my session. Mrs. Reynolds was a journalist who wanted my opinion on the potential appeal of the Defense of Marriage Act. Considering that we were at a busy event, I suggested somewhere else for her to record my thoughts._

_We went to a bar, where she recorded my interview and then published it. I sincerely wish that that was where I could say that this story ends, but it’s not. We met several times over the course of the summer. Mrs. Reynolds offered me invaluable information about politicians over cups of coffee. Again, I wish I could say that coffee was all there was._

_I began my affair in mid July, just a few days after my wife and children came to visit me.  
I wish that I could say that it only happened once. I wish that I could say that it only happened in hotels or at Maria’s apartment. But it happened more than once, and during the summer, it happened often in my own house, and yes, in my own bed. It happened often over the course of the summer and it continued for three more months. _

_Then, her husband, ex-lobbyist James Reynolds, found out._

_Reynolds demanded that I pay him or he would expose my affair with his wife to the public. So, I paid him off. James Reynolds blackmailed me, as he has done to dozens of other Senators. He is prison for blackmail and I’m just another one of his victims._

_I am writing this because unnamed senator approached me and threatened to expose my record of blackmail and extortion. He believed that I paid off Reynolds to lobby other Senators against a bill. This is false._

_I may have made questionable mistakes and awful decisions in my personal life, but my personal shortcomings did not carry over to my political ones._

_However, I would like to extend the sincerest apologies to my wife, my family, and the American public. I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

Eliza sat her desk, unable to think, to breathe, to do anything but stare at that goddamned computer. 

Finally, she picked up her phone and slowly, robotically, typed out a message to Alexander. 

_Don’t bother coming home_

**Denial**

“Maybe he’s lying,” Eliza said. “Mayne he did pay Reynolds off and this is method of escape.” 

Angelica arched and eyebrow. “You want your husband to have committed a federal crime because you don’t want to believe he was cheating on you?” She asked. 

“I’m just saying that maybe we don’t know the full story,” Eliza shot back. “God, I want a fucking drink,” she whined. “But someone had to knock me up and now I can’t have so much as a sip of alcohol. I could literally kill him, Angelica.” Eliza rubbed her belly softly. Her son was probably feeding off of her emotions, which made everything more stressful. Why the hell would Alexander think it was a good idea to publish this when his wife was nearing seven months pregnant? 

“So first you’re defending him and now you want to kill him?” Angelica asked. “I’ll support you either way but you kinda have to pick one.” 

“I don't want to believe he did this,” Eliza said. “If the affair went on for a year like he said, then he was having an affair while I was pregnant with Jamie and that’s unforgivable.” 

“I should go pick up the kids from mom’s house,” Eliza said, attempting to get up from the couch. 

“Leave them,” Angelica said. “You aren’t in any position to pick them up. They’ll be fine there.” 

Eliza huffed and settled back onto the couch. “Thanks for being here,” she said. 

She was glad to have her sister, even if she didn’t want to believe that this was the truth.

 **Anger**

“Get the fuck out of my house,” Eliza uttered. Her voice was steely, cold.

Angelica froze, opening her eyes. Angelica had slept on the couch and it was 6 o’clock in the morning. “What the hell, Eliza? I know you’re upset at Alexander but please don’t take it out of me.” 

“Upset at Alexander?” Eliza yelled. “I can’t even describe how angry I am at Alexander. But I have his passwords: to his email, his iCloud, his everything. I never used them because I trusted him. But I went through them this morning. Did you even think about me? Or is this all about how you have to have everything? You have to be these best at everything? You have to take everything from me including my own fucking husband.” Eliza watched as the recognition entered Angelica’s eyes. 

“It wasn’t that,” Angelica said quickly. “I shouldn’t have done it to begin with, but everything with John happened and…” 

“Your husband cheated on you and then left you and your response was to have an emotional affair with your sister’s husband? I heard whispers of you guys having an affair and I shut them down. I told them that I would fucking know if my own sister was having an affair with my husband. I am so humiliated right now,” Eliza yelled. “Get the fuck out of my house…” 

“Eliza, please,” Angelica said, and Angelicams eyes were welling up with tears. Eliza almost, almost felt bad for her. 

“Leave!” She demanded.

And Eliza broke down and sobbed as her sister left her house. 

-X-

_You have until tonight at 7p to come get your shit or I’m throwing it all on the sidewalk_

Alexander arrived an hour later, and Eliza knew that he wasn’t expecting her to be sitting at the dining room table. 

“Eliza,” Alexander said softly. He looked as if he had been crying. 

Eliza scoffed. Alexander. Crying. Why? He was the one who had done this, the one who had willfully destroyed his career. 

“I’m so sorry,” Alexander said. 

“Pack up your shit, and get out of my house,” Eliza said, careful to keep her voice cold.

“Eliza, I should have told you,” Alexander said. 

“You think?” Eliza demanded. “Did you think it was a good idea for your wife to find out that you cheated on her, in her own bed no less from the fucking paper? It would’ve been nice to have a heads up.”

“I had to clear my name, Eliza,” Alexander argued back. 

“Well, in clearing your name you’ve ruined our lives,” Eliza retorted. 

“Eliza, there were whispers about-“ 

“Whispers?!” Eliza cut him off. “Your enemy whispers so you decide to scream?!” 

“You know how whispers get on the Hill, Eliza,” Alexander tried to reason. 

“Of course I know about whispers!” Eliza yelled. She was livid now. “I’ve seen how you look at my sister.” 

Alexander froze. “Angelica and I, we never,” he stuttered. 

“You don’t have to have sex to cheat,” Eliza said. “Just pack your shit, Alexander, and get out.” 

“What about the kids?” Alexander asked. 

The kids. The kids. You didn’t think about the kids when you decided to fuck someone else is what she wanted to say. But she knew that it was unfair to the kids to deny them their father. 

“The children and I will be spending the summer in New York,” Eliza said. “Perhaps you can keep it in your pants this time, but probably not. You can come down and see them every other weekend. Peggy will handle giving them to you because after today I don’t want to see you.”

“And what about the baby?” Alexander asked, gesturing at Eliza’s stomach. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Eliza answered. “Like I said, pack your shit.” 

She could feel the last dregs of anger leaving her body as she said it. But she knew that she was just exhausted and that it wouldn’t be long before she was angry again. 

**Depression**

William Schuyler Hamilton was born five weeks later. His middle name was half of a threat, reminding his father that Eliza could and would be absolutely fine on her own. His middle name was also meant to honor Eliza’s father, who had been a tremendous help during the days that followed the affair. He was the one that handled the custody transfers and the one that got any necessary information to Eliza. 

Eliza didn’t have to even text Alexander if she had any questions. Her dad took care of everything. Eliza wondered how he was processing this. 

Philip Schuyler has cheated on their mother and had produced three illegitimate children over the course of twenty years. Her parents had divorced over it. 

Perhaps this was his attempt at redemption. 

Eliza tried, she really did. But nothing could stop the appearance of postpartum depression. She was prone to it, especially because she had previously struggled with regular depression. She hadn’t had it with any of her earlier pregnancies except for Pip, but the stress of everything had put her between a rock and a hard place. 

She loved William. She really, truly did, but he was a carbon copy of Alexander, and it hurt. She loved her boy more than anything, but the depression made it hard for her to function, and it was near impossible to care for her son. 

Peggy and her dad stepped him and helped. They cared for William and the others and on the days when Eliza couldn’t force herself out of bed, they took the older kids to the park to distract them. 

It helped. They helped. 

Alexander helped too, even if Eliza was reluctant to admit it. He was home for the summer, and he picked up the kids three times a week and every other weekend. Pip and Angie and AJ and Jamie had so much fun when he came to pick them up, and they came back with so many stories. None of them, thankfully, asked why Dad wasn’t living with them. Pip knew, and Eliza suspected that Angie did too. 

But Alexander was so good to them. They loved their dad, and Alexander respected Eliza’s distance, even after the baby was born. He had only texted once, asking for pictures of William, and Eliza had sent every single one in her phone. She didn’t want to see him. She didn’t want to have watch Alexander hold his son. 

Eliza forced herself to attend therapy. That helped too. For two hours a week she could rant and rave and cry and scream. And it helped. 

“There are seven stages of grief,” her therapist explained. “You’re simply experiencing the depression phase, and this is compounded by the fact that you’re going postpartum depression.” 

“Stages of grief?” Eliza asked, perplexed. “Alexander isn’t dead.” 

“But you probably feel like your marriage has died, correct?” Her therapist asked. 

“I never thought of it that way,” Eliza said. 

Her therapist smiled sympathetically. 

“Can you believe in considering forgiving him?” Eliza asked. “He’s just so good with the children, that I actually considered forgiving him. I still love him and-“ Eliza trailed off. 

“And that’s okay,” her therapist said. “You can forgive him if you want, and you can get back together or you can ask for a divorce.” 

“I’ll have to think about it,” Eliza said. “I love him and I miss him but I feel so fucking ridiculous.” 

“You’re not ridiculous,” her therapist said. “You’re experiencing normal human emotions. Your mind is just processing grief.” 

Grief, Eliza realized, was more pain than she ever experienced. 

-X- 

She forgave Angelica first. 

_Would you like to come meet your nephew?_ She asked.

And Angelica was on the first Spirit flight out of DC because family trumped whatever bill she was working on. 

“He’s amazing,” Angelica said as she cradled William in her arms. “He’s absolutely wonderful.” 

“I know,” Eliza agreed. “I just love him so much. I have five other babies and I’m still in awe of the fact that my body can do this.” 

“He’s incredible, Eliza, I’m so sorry.” 

“I know.” 

“Nothing excuses my actions and I am truly sorry that I hurt you,” Angelica said. 

“I know.” 

“Alexander and I flirted for months and he was the one who cut it off and I’m sorry for that,” Angelica continued. “I should have been the one to shut him down.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you going to say something besides I know?” Eliza asked.

“I know.” Eliza answered. Then she chuckled. “I forgive you.” 

Angelica smiled.

Eliza smiled back. 

-X- 

_Come meet your son._ Eliza texted Alexander three days later. _The other kids are going to the Bronx Zoo with my father today._

Alex knocked on the door an hour later. 

Eliza opened the door. “This,” Eliza carefully bounced her son. “Is William. William Schuyler Hamilton.” She placed the baby in Alexander’s arms. 

If Alex had felt any shock at William’s middle name choice, he said nothing. 

“Eliza,” Alexander said. “He’s perfect. He’s incredible.” 

“I know,” Eliza said. “I made him.” 

“Eliza,” Alexander began. “I am so sorry.I betrayed your trust by cheating on you, and I humiliated you by publishing the story of my affair in a major newspaper. Furthermore, I did so without talking to you first or even giving you so much as a heads up to what I was going to do. I swear, Eliza, that I will never do this again. And I will do whatever it takes to make things right with you, even if you won’t take me back. I also ask for your forgiveness.” 

**Bargaining**

“Anatomy of an apology, I see,” Eliza uttered, giving Alexander a small smile. “I do believe that you are sorry and that you’re never going to do this again. I have terms before I’m going to forgive you,” she continued. She had gone over then with her therapist. 

“What are they?” Alexander asked. His eyes were hopeful. 

“We’re going to couples therapy when we go back to DC,” Eliza began. “After a few weeks we can decide whether or not we are going to divorce. You don’t delete a single text message, email, or phone call. I’m not going to go through your phone or laptop, but know that I reserve the right to if I feel so inclined. We will sit down during therapy, and we will discuss the remainder of the details of your affair and you will answer any questions I have. And you are not yet allowed back at the house, not until I say that you can come home.” 

“If I do these,” Alexander said, carefully rocking their son. “Will you forgive me?” He asked. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

**Testing**

Alexander followed Eliza’s instructions to the T and Eliza resisted the urge to go through Alexander’s electronics. After all, if they were rebuilding trust then she was going to try to refrain from it unless he gave her a reason not to trust him.

Alexander showed up, fifteen minutes early, even, to every single therapy appointment, and he answered every single one of her questions about the affair. 

He found out that Eliza was sleeping in their guest room because she refused to sleep in their old bed and he ordered her a new bed. 

Eliza burned everything: the mattress and all of their old sheets and comforters.

She invited Alexander with her to shop for how she was going to redecorate the bedroom. It was a step forward, a baby step, but a step forward. They chose blacks and greys and Eliza decorated it with abstract art. Her bedroom felt new and different, and it no longer felt like the place where her husband had betrayed her.

“Is Daddy ever going to come live with us again?” AJ asked one day while they were eating dinner.

Eliza sighed. She had been very intentionally not thinking about whether or not she was going to let Alexander back into the house. It had been four months since the affair and it had been six weeks since they had started couples counseling.

“I don’t know yet,” Eliza said honestly. “Eat your vegetables, okay?”

“The children are asking about you,” Eliza said after their next appointment. “They want to know when you’re coming home.” 

“What’d you tell them?” Alexander asked. 

“That I don’t know yet,” Eliza responded, avoiding Alexander’s eyes. 

“Well,” Alexander said slowly. “I was wondering if you would like to go out for dinner sometime.” 

Eliza arched an eyebrow. “Like a date?” She chuckled sarcastically. “Really, Alexander.” 

“I know I don’t deserve you Eliza,” Alexander stared into Eliza’s eyes and not for the first time Eliza could see the intensity of his remorse and guilt. “But hear me out. I can’t pretend to know what you’re going through, and I know that we’re still going to face a multitude of challenges. But, Eliza, I love you, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you the life that you deserved. I’m sorry that I worked too late and that I didn’t put in enough time and energy with the children, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t the husband you deserved. I want anything more than to have a second chance to make things right.” 

“I never minded that you worked so hard and that you worked late, Alexander. And sure, I wish you would have spent more time with the children, but I understood. I know who I married, Alexander. I just don’t know when my husband Alex got replaced with Senator Hamilton who is obsessed with his legacy and his reputation,” Eliza’s voice was thick and she could feel the tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. 

“Can you give me a chance?” Alexander asked. “Can I become Alex again? Will you let me take you on a date at least?”  
Eliza paused for a long moment to consider it. She loved this man: his faults, his flaws, and everything, and everyday without him hurt. “I’ll go on a date with you,” she agreed. “But we are going to take this slowly.”

Alex nodded, and the relief in his eyes was so visible that it stung. “Slowly, he agreed. We are going to thanks things slowly.” 

**Acceptance**

Elizabeth Margaret Hamilton was born two and a half years later, happy and healthy to two happily married parents. 

“She’s amazing,” Alex whispered, careful not to wake the sleeping newborn. 

“She’s absolutely incredible,” Eliza agreed. It was 3:30a in the morning, so they had a few hours before the older kids came to visit. Hours where Eliza could just sit and absorb her new daughter and her husband.

There was some sort of irony about her daughter’s birth date, by sheer coincidence she had been born on June 9th. No longer would this day represent the near death of Eliza’s marriage. It would be her baby girl’s birthday. It would represent new meaning and new beginning, and for that Eliza was thankful.

They had come a long way from that awful June day, but they had rebuilt trust slowly and surely and Eliza had once again fallen completely and totally in love with her husband.

And so Eliza sat in awe, of not only the marvelous tiny human that her body had made but also of the man who marvelled at said human: the man who she loved, the man who had almost ruined their marriage, and the man that had helped to rebuild it: brick by brick.

**Author's Note:**

> Loved it? Hated it? Please leave a comment and validate me. I'm desperate and this is just sad.


End file.
